


Eat Up

by FluroKitten



Category: SpongeBob SquarePants (Cartoon)
Genre: Feeder Kink, M/M, Mommy Kink, Multi, Selfcest, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22209577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FluroKitten/pseuds/FluroKitten
Summary: Spongebob wants to have some fun with a little friend, but has to be careful to avoid punishment ;DEditor's note: there may be errors or inaccuracies in this fic, but it all just flowed out of me in one day. It was an emotion experience that helped me get in touch with my inner writer, and I'm eternally grateful to the SpongeBob fandom.
Relationships: SpongeBob SquarePants/SpongeBob SquarePants, Spongebob Squarepants/Original Female Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	Eat Up

It’s been almost a full hour since Sam left the house to have lunch at Mrs Puff’s. Almost a full hour that Spongebob has been laying atop his three mattresses, feeling his body stretch, morph and split at the seams. Almost a full hour that SpongeBob has been… dividing.

He never knows whether it’s the act itself or the anticipation and nerves that leave him tingling all over, stomach twisted and limbs quivering from the act of holding still. It takes a lot of energy to divide, weeks of eating for two and early nights. But it’s always worth it. 

He feels the change when the second body finally separates from his - a shift in how the weight is distributed across the mattress, a pinky brushing against his where they were previously joined. SpongeBob rolls onto his side to look into another pair of baby blue eyes, pupils huge in arousal. This other being knows what he wants. After all, he is him.

The first SpongeBob looks into the eyes of the second SpongeBob and begins to giggle. “So SecondBob - where should we start?”

“How much can we get away with before Mother is back?”

SpongeBob looks at the alarm clock next to his bed. Lunch could take anywhere between an hour and three depending on how chatty Mrs Puff is feeling. Best to assume a short lunch. But they don’t want to rush…

SpongeBob climbs down from his bed and goes to his chest, pulling out two pairs of cuffs. SecondBob begins to giggle again. “Who’s getting tied down this time?”

“You are, silly”

SpongeBob climbs back onto the mattress to find SecondBob sitting up with a determined glint in his eye. So he wants to make a game of it, huh? SpongeBob is hindered by holding the cuffs and tired from dividing, but SecondBob is new to life and still doesn’t have his sea legs. When SecondBob lunges for him, SpongeBob rolls to the side, nearly tipping himself off the mattress pile. He manages to get behind SecondBob, pinning him down, hands around wrists, erection grinding hard into his ass. SecondBob gasps and bucks, the new sensation overwhelming him. SpongeBob manages to use the distraction to haul SecondBob back toward the head of the bed and cuff him to the posts.

“Ultimately does it matter who’s on top? We’ll both get to enjoy it in the end.”

SecondBob huffs in annoyance, curling his legs up to his chest to avoid being spread eagled further. “It’s not fair though. I feel things more strongly than you, you should serve me one of these times.”

SpongeBob leans down over SecondBob, all dark eyes and bobbing erection. His voice turns smoother as he says “Maybe you have a point”.

SecondBob begins to grin, then gasps suddenly. SpongeBob has begun tracing a finger behind his balls, a staticky tingling of pleasure that makes his toes curl and his back arch. SpongeBob leans down to lick a filthy line up from his asshole to his balls, then take them into his mouth. His hands wrap firmly around SecondBob’s relaxed thighs, pulling them down over his shoulders. As he moves up to suck the head of SecondBob’s cock into his mouth, SecondBob tenses, first from pleasure, then from realisation. 

“No-!”

But it’s too late. SpongeBob has already pinned his legs as he pulls off, and cuffs them to the end of the bed. Helpless and spreadeagled, neglected erection waving like a flag pole in a stiff breeze, SecondBob squirms frustratedly and pouts at SpongeBob. 

“You’re a dirty trickster”

“Nyahahahahah! I really am. But you’re gonna get me off anyway. Because you know if it’s good for me, it’ll be good for you too.”

With one last frustrated buck of his hips, SecondBob relents. 

“Aye-aye, captain”

Still chuckling, SpongeBob crawls up SecondBob’s body, turning to face the foot of the bed. He begins delicately lowering himself down over SecondBob’s face spreading his cheeks wide until-

“Ah!”

SecondBob’s nose is thin, yet bulbous, but still enough to burn slightly as it breaches his hole. Determined, spongeBob continues sliding down, feeling the strange pressure fill him as he settles firmly abeam. He shifts, trying to find a comfortable way to rest his weight, to squirm away from the inescapable, all-consuming touch that is sending jols up his spine, making him buck involuntarily. 

As if sensing his discomfort, SecondBob reaches up to grab his hips and shift him into a better position. Then he manoeuvres his cock down to his mouth, tracing his tongue up it’s length. The fireworks exploding behind SpongeBob’s eyes dispel the last of the pain, and he begins to pant, trying to grind onto SecondBob’s nose and into his mouth simultaneously. For his part, SecondBob works hard, suckling SpongeBob’s dick and balls with further, and driving his nose hard up into SpongeBob’s most sensitive spots. SpongeBob is rocking back and forth, feeling the waves of pleasure rise in his core, gasping and shuddering in the path of his oncoming orgasmic tsunami when-

“Meow!”

Gary is next to his alarm clock, and when SpongeBob looks over, eyes barely focusing through the haze of his pleasure he sees… it’s been an HOUR AND 20 MINUTES. They are going to need to dock this ship sooner than he thought.

“SecondBob, I’m… I’m almost there… but… it’s time…”

SecondBob can’t talk with his mouth full, but he manages to nod, the movement jostling his nose and sending another shiver of pleasure through SpongeBob.

SpongeBob, determined now, clamps down on that nose, then leans forward to uncuff SecondBob’s ankles. He grabs one foot, and brings it to his mouth.

SpongeBob lathes a tongue between SecondBob’s toes, enjoying the sight of his flagging erection standing to attention once more. He sucks the big toe into his mouth, and uses his other hand to begin massaging SecondBob’s balls as he sinks his teeth into his foot, shews and swallows. 

SecondBob moans around his dick.

SecondBob tastes like yellow buttercream frosting.

SpongeBob keeps going.

SpongeBob makes it to the second thigh before SecondBob’s squirming reaches new heights, then stops as he shudders and creams across SpongeBob’s chest. His tongue lolls out and his nose stops moving until SpongeBob grinds down determinedly on his face. Sufficiently reminded, he redoubles his efforts. 

SpongeBob keeps eating, smearing yellow sponge and pink intestines around his mouth as his movements become less coordinated. He can feel the pleasure building, fizzing in his belly and his toes. 

Then it hits him.

He comes bag to awareness, choking and gagging on a chunk of SecondBob’s lung. The sugary tastes has become sickly, and he’s starting to feel full, but he knows he needs to keep going. SecondBob has slipped into merciful unconsciousness, and the only way he’s coming back is if he eats the brain.

Besides, he has to get rid of any trace before Sam gets home.

SpongeBob keeps going, erection wilting as he forces more SecondBob into his mouth. Despite the unpleasant syrupy taste and uncomfortable fullness, he’s practiced at this, efficient. He keeps going until there’s scarcely a trace of SecondBob.

Then he picks up his sheets, tosses them in the laundry, and goes to take a shower. If she asks, it was wash day anyway.

Afterwards, he lays on the couch for a bit waiting for the familiar fizzing to start. He’s eaten SecondBob’s brain now, and while he’s absolutely gorged himself, stomach distended and oesophagus choked with sponge, he did eat the brain. He should start digesting SecondBob’s memories any moment now.

SpongeBob stares at his round little belly, sighs, and decides to do the dishes while he waits.

As he cleans the dishes from breakfast, he takes note of the time. Mother Sam has been gone for over two hours now. A longer lunch with Mrs. Puff. That raises the possibility of… surely not. She couldn’t have. She didn’t take any flour with her. Did she?

Little sparks begin to run up his spine as images and sensations begin to flash in his mind. His hands being cuffed to a headboard. A tongue running over his balls. An aft planted firmly on his prow. SecondBob’s memories have started digesting.

The door opens.

“SpongeBob! Me and Mrs. Puff decided to do some baking! Come and have some while it’s still hot!”

Sam is home.

She brought baking.

SpongeBob gulps miserably, drying the last dish before pasting a smile on his face and turning to exit the kitchen.

“Sam! You baked me cookies! How delicious! But I’ve just finished lunch… could they wait a bit?”

“Oh SpongeBob, don’t be silly. It’s just cookies. If all you’ve had is lunch, you’ll have room for a few!”

Sam planted her hands firmly on SpongeBob’s shoulders and steers him towards the table, pushing him down into the seat in front of the steaming plate of cookies.

“Chocolate chip. Only the best for my little boy.”

She sits across from him, watching him as he reaches a shaking hand out, takes a cookie, and forces it into his mouth. Chews. Swallows.

“That was delicious mother. May I be excused?”

The cookie is sitting heavy in his mouth. Flashbacks of his earlier crimes are running through his head, mixing jolts of pleasure and sticky, overly sweet shame in his belly.

“Oh you can’t have just one. Good boys deserve treats. And you HAVE been a good boy, haven’t you?”

Sam picks up a biscuit and zooms it like an aeroplane into his mouth. He bites down and holds it there as she stands up and circles around the table. Once she’s behind him, tears begin to gather in his eyes. His Mother, and he can’t do the one thing she wants of him, enjoy her innocent gift to him. 

Sam leans over his shoulder, reaches down, and squeezes his belly. His blood runs cold.

She knew.

Of course she knew.

His Dark Mother Sam always knew.

It’s too much, the shame, the fullness, the cookies, the memories flashing through his mind. He moans and whimpers as his cock fills again, choking on the biscuit even as she brings another one to his mouth.

“Now be a good boy won’t you? Eat up.”


End file.
